


How Dean found his Snarky Bastard

by cybergirl614



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Anal Play, Dean in Denial, Dom Castiel, Dom/sub, First Meetings, Gay Bar, Hook-Up, M/M, Oral Sex, becomes more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 15:25:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6475711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cybergirl614/pseuds/cybergirl614
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester, who once presumed himself exclusively interested in women, encounters Castiel, an infuriatingly attractive stranger in a bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Dean found his Snarky Bastard

“Hey, you,” Cas called as his sub opened the door. 

He was greeted with a waggle of eye brows and a lopsided grin. 

“Hey yourself,” Dean smirked, ushering Castiel inside. 

“Maybe I should teach you manners, hmm?” Cas murmured as Dean shut the door behind them, beckoning his Dom further into his apartment. 

“Sure, you can try,” Dean rolled his eyes as he spoke.

“Come here, you little heathen,” Cas said, grabbing him by the shoulder to pull Dean into his arms. 

Dean shrugged his arm off but grasped tightly to his Dom’s body, pulling himself flush to the other man’s chest, nuzzling his way into his shoulder.

Dean felt the tingle of Cas’ breath at his ear as his Dom licked his earlobe, making him groan as his Dom’s fingers knotted in his hair, roughly pulling his head to the side to reveal the skin of his neck. Dean hummed with anticipation as Cas’ lips met the skin at the base of his neck, his shirt collar yanked aside. A moment of delightful sucking gave way to the pang of teeth on flesh, at first a sharp sting and then a delicate, wonderful pressure, punctuated by flares of brilliance there that made Dean groan. Just as it reached the point he was going slack against his Dom, Cas was pulling back, leaving him grabbing for something to hold onto. 

“Oh god, Cas, please—“

“I might continue, that is, if you show me all the ways that you need me, as a fuckboy should for his Master,” Cas said slowly, keeping Dean at arm’s length with a hand to his shoulder. 

“Please, Cas, please, I need you to fuck me--“ 

He was cut off by the hungry press of Cas’ lips to his own, demanding wordlessly with the force of his tongue and teeth and lips what Dean so gladly gave up. Dean’s lips parted welcoming his Dom into his mouth, already so aching to be claimed. 

 

Cas’ tongue probed, making Dean groan into his Dom’s mouth, pushing in boldly as he felt all of Dean’s, his tongue sliding to make room, letting Cas in, gladly letting him have his way. 

 

What would have been annoying under normal circumstances was exhilarating since Cas was there, and the energy was there. The energy…the air itself seemed to be on fire under his Dom’s commanding presence. The strength in his gaze, the solidity of his form. There was something terribly alive and incredibly compelling in that moment as he lay before his Dom, so utterly helpless by way of will and surrender, that he ached for at times that they weren’t together. He didn’t know what it was called, or if it was something a man should feel, but with Cas, he didn’t care. He didn’t care about what he’d once been told should and shouldn’t be, and didn’t care what anyone might think. This was a trust between himself and his Dom, something of a quality he had never felt before, certainly not with his heterosexual relationships. Here, he wasn’t aggressor as with so many women, but the party who gave themselves over. And despite himself, or what he’d been taught, he loved every minute of it. 

 

*

How he’d met Cas had been casual enough...

Dean had spotted him from across the room at the bar. He’d been there to hear a band perform, it was a music festival, though he’d stayed on later than the band had. The band left around 11, making way for the usual programs, which Dean vaguely acknowledged to be drag shows, but he didn’t much care. There was drink and people and….mainly drink. It had been a long day and the band, he’d been disappointed to see, sucked with the substitute guitarist. So more beer was the answer to those woes. And…goddamn. 

That dude across the room’s eyes seemed to glow in the strobes of the dance lights. 

He couldn’t hold it in, despite everything in him that screamed what are you doing, he had an idea forming. And beer, beer helped him silence his mind.

The guy went towards the patio, and Dean  
“Hey,” Dean said, tapping the guy’s shoulder. 

He’d stopped, turning suddenly, his body coiling as if for fight. 

“Hey,” Dean said stupidly, the word coming out a little too long and all horribly goofy sounding. Fuck. Dean Winchester did not do this, he knew how to hold is alcohol, goddamnit. 

“Yes, hello. Do I know you?” The man askedshambling about a bit. 

“No, uh, I dunno if you do I don’t know you,” Dean mumbled. “I’m Dean.” He squeezed out the words and immediately felt the burn of adrenaline and danger. What was dangerous here? It felt forbidden, but exhilarating. 

“So…out here for a smoke?” The other man asked, his smooth and casual as could be. Well, that killed the adrenaline a bit. Now he just felt really, really stupid. 

“Nah, uh, thought I’d say hi,” Dean said, mentally berating himself for his choice of actions and far more so, choice of words.

“Oh? Well, neither am I. I needed some air, gets a bit loud in there…” He shrugged at the direction of the doorway from which pounding bass emanated. “You know, it’s a great club, but a bit overrated at times.” 

“Yeah, really is,” Dean agreed, heart hammering in his ears. He was about to turn away, when the guy smiled, and his eyes did that thing again, the thing where they fucking sparkled.

“I’m Castiel,” he said, his smile growing as he extended a hand. It was all Dean could do not to let his jaw drop open at how gorgeous the man was, especially now that he was . And he was talking, to him. And Dean…he was talking back, he realized, as words poured out.

“I’m Dean. Good to meet you. I uh, thought you, uh...” Suddenly he realized what he was saying and backpedaled wildly for a save. Slow the hell down, he berated himself. “looked like an interesting person.”

 

Castiel smirked a bit, chuckling. “Is that so?”

“Err, yeah. Want a drink?”  
“Sure.” He nodded, ushering Cas back inside. 

Some time later, during the show, Dean and Cas stood hand in hand, in the cheering crowd.

“I, uh, also thought you were hella hot,” Dean shouted into his ear as the drag queen danced wildly to “Rolling in the Deep.” 

Castiel’s eyebrows shot up getting lost in the shadow of his bangs as he cracked a wicked grin, “I’d never have guessed.”

 

A few minutes later they were standing by the bar. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Dean said into the man’s ear. 

“Oh really now?” Cas’ eyebrows shot up again.

“Hell yeah, yeah really.” 

“And what do you want to do when we’re ‘out of here’?”

“I want you to fuck me.” Dean growled into his ear. 

“Do you? What if I said no? Hmm?” 

“Shit, you’re really saying no?” Dean began to turn away, but the guy caught him by the arm, their eyes meeting for a moment, and what Dean saw there for some reason he couldn’t begin to explain, convinced him to let Cas playfully push him into the wall. It also made his boner perk up…

“I’m not saying no,” Cas said after mashing a brutal kiss to Dean’s lips, speaking in the air between their noses, “But you are not sober. I do not fuck drunk men, understand?” 

“God you’re a pain in the ass,” Dean grumbled. 

“Am I now? Want to see how much more of one I can be? Switch to water, coke, something. Give it a couple hours, then you’ll get to see,” Cas declared, “just how much of a pain to your ass I can make myself.” He moved back from Dean with a knowing smile, eyes sparkling. 

He left Dean retreating to the men’s room, cursing the strange straight-lacedness of the guy he currently held as an object of ‘affection,’ to use a very loose word. 

Loose. He just wished his pants felt a bit looser right now….

*

 

On the patio after the late show ended, Dean spoke with the guy again at length. The buzz was about worn off, what with his liver of steel he’d inherited from his father, and now he had a decision to make.

“You are a rather straight guy for a gay bar,” the man observed. 

“I’m straight. Of course I’m straight,” Dean muttered angrily. 

“But then you said, hmm, I believe it was, I'm ‘hella hot,” Cas replied, eyes sparking mischievously.

“Oh, goddamnit. Yes, yes, you are, you snarky bastard,” Dean sputtered. 

“Ah, so you admit I’m attractive.”

“Maybe. Yeah.” Dean grouched. 

“And? That’s it? You bought me drinks? Where does a self-professed straight bro take this?”

“I—I want….” Dean said, stumbling over his words before shaking his head, anger and shame competing with mounting lust in his mind.

“I, for one, want to get out of here, with you if you still wish to do so, now in a more sound state of mind,” Cas beckoned. “What do you say? I drive?”

Dean rolled his eyes, half wondering what the hell he was doing. Hook-ups were nothing new for him, but the fact it was a dude was…well…that was very different indeed. 

“What the hell? Let’s.” He declared, slapping his hookup’s ass as they walked. He flung away the doubt that crawled through his mind, moving quickly beside Cas. 

“Hey,” Cas said, grabbing Dean’s arm as he retracted it. “Easy, you.”

“Really? I thought you, uh, what was it? Wanted to tell me how much of a pain in my ass you could be,” Dean quipped, dredging the recollection from the haze of alcohol earlier in the night.

“Hmm, want me to?” 

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” Dean laughed. 

“Did you drive?” Cas asked, and Dean nodded. “Great. Follow me, I’m in that space just up there. I live off of twelfth street in that apartment block by the library. Apartment 103, in case we get separated. Oh, and my number…”

Dean found out how to contact him, and then followed him to his home. He parked outside, meeting Cas at the front door, where his hookup greeted him.

“No troubles following me I presume?” Cas asked. 

“Nah, ‘sgreat,” Dean replied. 

“In that case,” Cas murmured as he closed the few feet between him and Dean where they stood on the steps to his flat, pushing Dean back into the door, where Dean gladly followed the movement, feeling the thunk of the wood behind his body, and the warmth of Cas’ lips on his, his tongue demanding entrance to Dean’s mouth. 

Dean parted his lips and let him in, hanging on to the other man’s shoulders as if for dear life. He’d never done this before, probably would never do this again, but one way or another, it was sure to be a hell of a night. 

 

*

In the morning, Dean was first aware that he was somewhere it was warm, soft, comfortable….wait, a little too comfortable, because as he fumbled about, he could have sworn he felt someone else beside him, thought he imagined a hand skating down his naked chest, warm fingers gentling over his side. 

For a few minutes as he’d lay there, his eyes closed, the most bizarre of fantasies floating in his mind. He pried his heavy eyelids open and looked around to find his clothing strewn on the floor and rope there too, on a floor that wasn’t his. And…goddamnit. It wasn’t some strange yet wonderful porno dream. That same guy, from the night before, as all the pieces of what they’d done came rushing back. That guy…Cas. He looked over to find Cas right beside him in bed. 

Cas’ bed. 

What had he done? He found himself shifting to feel of his back, finding tender spots in the flesh of his shoulders, and irritated looking skin on his wrists and ankles. No, he really hadn’t dreamt a bit of it. He’d been tied and bitten, and presumably quite well fucked while they were at it. 

Dean glanced back at Cas, to his dismay, to find the other party watching him. 

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Cas quipped, his eyes curiously soft, the jab dropped with what, if he didn’t know better, he’d read as affection. 

But did he know better? The words rolled off of him, earning a smirk. 

“Hm, morning,” Dean replied ever-so-eloquently, gruff as ever despite the Disney reference. 

Then Cas’ arm was around him again, fingers teasing at his nipples, making him go slack, letting the doubt that hit when he woke up slide away as he leaned in closer. 

He was still too tired from the late night to care about his latest escapade’s meaning, and right now, here with Cas felt so good, he didn’t want to think about it. And so he didn’t, instead nuzzling at Cas’ ear to kiss him, rolling to more fully meet the other man’s lips as Cas kissed back. 

Cas’ teeth teased at Dean’s lips, pulling them back and letting his tongue delve in deeply. It should have felt strange, particularly now with such clandestine acts happening in the light of day, Dean thought, but it was so incredible, it silenced all that spoke against it.  
Cas continued playing with Dean’s nipples and making out with him, fingers knotting in his hair and shifting them until Cas was straddling Dean’s chest, his morning hard-on bumping Dean’s lip, making Dean smile. 

“Want to try again?” Cas asked, “You did so well last night…”

“Yeah, sure I did,” Dean replied lightly, though he groaned internally at the humiliating attempt at giving a blowjob he’d managed the night before. But then, Cas was patient and hadn’t given him a hard time, instead recommending what to do, praising him with soft fingers on his neck or forehead. In that manner, Dean hadn’t just liked it, he’d loved it, reducing another man to the wonderful sounds his pitiful efforts had wrested from Cas’ lungs. He focused on that, and decided to try again, trying to recall what girls did when they gave him head, and trying to replicate what he’d done the night before when he happened to do something that pleased Cas. Sure, a dick was significantly easier to gag on than he’d realized, although when he began to, Cas backed off the thrusting, letting him take his time. 

“How about your face this time? I’d love to cum there,” Cas said, stroking Dean’s cheek, his face alight with the glow of lust. Dean had seen that look of want before on a woman’s face directed at him, but never known it from a man, never been the object of that want and objectification. He felt inexperienced and vulnerable, at Cas’ beck and call, and yet despite himself, despite the unfamiliarity, he couldn't say he disliked it. 

“Yeah, what the hell?” he muttered as he helped Cas jack off, his hand intertwined in the other man’s as warmth splattered his face. He blinked, glad none had gotten in his eyes, and looked up at Cas again, who smiled deeply at him. 

Dean sat up a bit, reaching to kiss Cas, who put a hand on his head as if to stop him. “Ah, now one more thing. Why don’t you lick me clean before we move on?” 

Dean paused a moment before acquiescing, deciding that somehow, despite how degrading it should have been, between sitting there with cum on his face and now licking Cas’ dick clean…well, fuck. When Cas said to do it, he wanted to. 

“So, now…” Dean paused as Cas bit his ear. 

“Now, I could play with that ass of yours a bit, since we never got to that last night,” Cas supplied. 

Wow, they hadn’t. He’d been too busy giving and receiving head, being tied and bitten and smacked around to bother. 

 

“Yeah, uh…” Dean began, although in daylight with a little less of the din of the bar in his head and the relentless horniness of a long week upon him, the wisdom of letting a random guy fuck him in the ass seemed a bit more questionable. 

“What, second thoughts?” Cas asked. 

“What, no.” Dean began. How exactly did one begin to explain that getting fucked in the ass by a random dude didn’t sound like the best idea right now? 

“Relax. I start easy, with fingers. See if you like it. I’m fairly certain you will, though.” 

The look of eagerness on Cas’ face, the warmth in his voice was all it took to make Dean overlook his misgivings. 

“God, I do want you in my ass. So…fuck me, I guess?” 

“How about you let me decide if your ass is ready for me or not? If you want to stop just say so.” 

Dean nodded, bringing his legs up toward his chest as Cas motioned for him to do so. 

“Ah—“ 

Cas’ fingers were gentle, skating across Dean’s thighs, opening his crack. Dean sighed as Cas pressed more into his flesh, massaging the hole, shivering at the wonderful, new sensations it gave him. 

He felt fullness as Cas’ finger breached his hole, working its way inside, exerting delightful pressures as it teased at his passageway. Dean tried not to tense as Cas pressed in further, and it began to pinch a bit. He slowed his movement and worked slowly, and Dean found himself fully relaxed again, enjoying the intensity of sensation. Then something jarred as Cas struck a sensitive spot—his prostate, he realized—but, goddamn, nobody had told him just how amazing it felt. Cas added another finger, and repeated the process. Dean groaned and shook as Cas found his prostate with both fingers now and played with it at length. 

“Augh,” he groaned again, feeling his hard cock begin to leak. “You…oh, god…” He tried to make words but they evaded him, the force of the slow, strange brand of pleasure ripping the capability from his mind. They weren’t important right now. It stretched on, and on, and on, what felt something like continuous pulses of ecstasy, something like coming, but deeper in his body, and protracted by time undeterminable. He neared exhaustion, yet Cas persisted, and Dean realized, he was still hard, slowly leaking away. He loved it, but he was so tired now, and oh, goddamnit, he needed to come, so badly, he almost felt like he could explode. But he didn't want to jerk himself off, he realized. He wanted Cas to. 

“C-cas…“ Dean finally found words, but was so near the edge he felt unable to move to finish things himself, and could barely .

“Hmm? Tell me, what do you need?” Cas whispered in his ear. “Do you tire of this?”

“Yeah—no, just…I need to come.” 

“Well then, come you shall.” Cas declared, turning Dean onto his side. Cas fisted his cock, and finally, mercifully brought him over the edge. 

Dean shook where he lay for a few moments, until Cas was holding him, kissing him, smoothing the sweat from his forehead, and 

"What the fuck do you do to me, you snarky bastard?" Dean found himself mumbling. 

"Fuck would be the word," Cas laughed. "I fuck you, plain and simple. Ah, and as you can see, there are so many ways..." 

“So, you, do this much?” Dean asked.

“Mm, not quite.”

“Not quite what? Pick up straight dudes?”

“Dean, might you mean allow straight dudes to pick me up? You were the one hitting on me, I do believe.” 

“Okay, okay. I did hit on you first.” Dean groaned. “Goddamn, I’m not straight.”

“That’s for you to figure out, my little stranger.”

“Little? I’m taller than you, and I’m pretty sure I’m bigger--” Dean exclaimed.

“I didn’t mean that way. This isn’t a dick contest. I meant…” Cas shrugged. “I meant it as an endearment. But then perhaps I’ve overstepped my bounds with allowing such terms to slip out with someone not already well acquainted with me.” 

“Ok, ok. Sorry, didn’t mean to flip shit,” Dean replied, rolling his eyes. “But really, you’re shorter than I am, little man.”

“Perhaps. But then who did the fucking?” 

Dean sighed. “You did.”

“Indeed I did. Did you like it?” 

“Yeah. Oh, goddamn. I want to do this again sometime." 

"We could," Cas shrugged. "If you really want to."

"Well I do. So, what, call me?" 

"Something like that," Cas smiled, pressing a kiss to Dean's forehead. "If you're brave enough, you little heathen stranger, you." 

Dean gave Cas a what-the-fuck sort of look, and rolled his eyes, laughing.

"OK, one question. Is that weird-ass thing you're calling me part of your kinkiness?"

"I guess you'll have to find out," Castiel winked. 

Dean groaned and started to kiss Cas back. This guy was infuriating, in every sense--attractiveness, attitude, tantalizing skill... and Dean realized, he wanted to explore every maddening aspect of the odd man he'd found.


End file.
